Hate – Crime

Hate, my beloved feeling which floods the streets. We don’t like others; we seek for the day to steal them the light of a new day. Ripping their flesh and collecting their eyes, so no more memories can be caught. Stabbing them and collecting their bones. Nothing left but blood to paint on the wall, “Hunters we are, no matter what you do you’ll perish in our bare hands”, leaving a head on the middle of the street and hang the flesh from a light pole.